Gridcosm

Artist matrix

Grid poem

The runway was clear, but the pilot was busylapping the vorpal birdas he flapped his way outta the vortex on a wing and a prayer.Nobody spoke his language, but toan unusually astute observeryes, she did appear beautiful, and he would want HER...And at first, like, I wanted him too, right? And like I gave him a chance to prove himself, but he was staring at my feet,reaching for my sneaks with his glowing tendrils.

Getting around

To navigate,
click the outer edges of the grid to
zoom-out
(up one level). Click the center of the grid to
zoom-in
(down one level).